True Love Did Wait
by fantasyxfreeme
Summary: It was always her. It was always Mikayla. One-shot, Mitchie/Mikayla femslash. M for a reason. NO FLAMES.


**(hides face in hands) okay so...this is the first M-rated fic i've EVER done. and the first sex scene i've ever written. it's not that bad, really not graphic at all compared to some, but it does qualify as M. i'm absolutely terrified to post this but hey. I think it turned out alright for my first one. This subject is just something i've been forced to think about today. And writing is my therapy. So this is me letting it all out.**

**disclaimer: don't own anything but the plot.**

I stare up at Mikayla, a blush flooding its way through my cheeks and ears. We're both breathing heavily, and my hands are wrapped carefully around my torso. It's bare, my shirt discarded on the floor. My bra's still intact, and i reach up to catch one of the straps that's slipping carelessly down my shoulder. It feels like it's egging me on.

We're in the middle of a staring contest, Mikayla and me. Her eyes easily penetrate my soul. It's as if i can feel them reaching in through my own eyes and timidly reaching out for me.

"Mik?" I prod quietly. She still hasn't answered my question.

Her beautiful brown eyes shift back and forth from a number of things. My uncovered chest, my eyes, her left ring finger, our position on the hotel bed. Her eyebrows are furrowed in deep thought.

"I love you," she says, finally.

I feel like noting that she still hasn't given me an answer, but something tells me to keep listening. I sit up on the bed as she slides off me. We're sitting side by side, my bare shoulder gently touching the cloth covering hers.

"That's my answer," she says, reaching down to her finger and pulling her ring off. She studies it carefully for a moment, and I do too. It's obviously worn, with a pretty good number of nicks and scratches on it. Still, the black words carved into it ring out as if it had never seen hard times. **True Love Waits**.

I don't know what to say now, really. So I say what I'm feeling. "I love you too, Mik."

At this, she looks back up at me, gripping her ring in her fist. "Then there's nothing wrong," she murmers with a smile. She reaches up to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. Her warm fingers linger on my cheek.

I find my voice again. "But...aren't you saving yourself for marriage?" I stumble over my words, but make them come out eventually.

Mikayla smiles at me again. My heart melts. Her smiles are how I get out of bed in the morning, how I keep pressing on no matter how hard things seem. Her perfect smile. "The ring says 'true love waits', Mitch. I love you, and I know you love me. I've been waiting for this since the day I first met you, all those years ago." She slides her hand down my cheek and lets it rest in my hand.

"Mik...the public knows we're together, but...what happens if you stop wearing your ring? I don't want you to be hurt by this..." I say, feeling her pulse through her hand. Her heart is beating about as rapidly as mine is.

She says nothing, but pulls my hand up, my palm facing the ceiling. She brings the ring to her lips, kissing it, before placing it in my open hand. "It's yours. It's...it's always been yours. Along with my heart."

She closes my fingers around it, and I feel the warm metal in every crevice of my hand. I feel Mikayla there.

I bring her lips to mine in a much-needed kiss. Her arms slide up mine to rest behind my neck. We pull apart, looking into each other's eyes, asking permission just one more time. We concede.

This time, when our lips meet, it's not soft and slow like it had been just moments before. This time it's fast and powerful. There's so much emotion pouring out of both of us, but there's something else too. A need. A primal need. I feel our lips bruising against each other, and suddenly the fact that my shirt is not on is staring me blatantly in the face. Along with the fact that her shirt _is_ still on.

I move my hand from the back of her head to rest on her stomach, just under the shirt line. My finger brushes against it for a moment as I tried to steady my brain. My hands go around to her back and pull it over her head.

She moans in distress as our lips are forced to part so that I can remove the fabric. We clash back together the second her shirt is out of the way. My hand moves to her back once more, this time after a new target. I fumble with the clasp on her bra, slightly distracted by the feel of her fingers through the oh-so-thick material covering my breasts. Finally, it's undone, and I slide it off of her.

I pause here. I stare at her. I can't help it. I feel the blush on her cheeks. She shifts uncomfortably, and attempts to cover up with her arm.

"You're beautiful," I say before I can stop myself. "Every inch of you is utterly breathtaking. You are beautiful." She says nothing, just smiles that smile one more time. I reach up, taking the hand she was using to try and cover herself, and lead it to my cheek. I replace her hand with mine. She hisses with pleasure as our lips meet again.

She reaches for the button on my jeans. She's shaking as she undoes them with deliberate moves. I lift my hips up as she slides them off of me, and then I hear the distinct sound of denim hitting carpet. I reach for her shorts and do the same. Only one thing stands between us now.

Here, Mik moves her lips from mine to my neck. My fingers tangle in her gorgeous hair, as I let myself catch my breath. Thought floods back in, the momentary lapse in my desire being used to full effect. I know that I can't stop to think about it. I don't let myself.

I reach down, hesitantly sliding her undergarments off her legs. I give her silent permission to do the same to me, and I know she understands that. With one final kiss to my earlobe, she removes the last article of clothing that separates us. Girlfriends to lovers in a heartbeat.

That's how I've always imagine this. With Mikayla, it was love. She was always supposed to be my lover. And right now, I don't want to have sex with her. I want to make love to her. I smile, moving her to kiss the skin in between her breasts. "I love you, Mik," I whisper against her chest.

"I love you too, Mitchie. So much," she says softly to me.

Once more, our lips meet. It's slow now. Deliberate. The night becomes a blur to me, with hands between my legs like nothing I've ever felt before. We're both clumsy, unsure of what to do, but we find a rhythm. We make things right. My trembling left hand is clutching the sheets like it's my one hope of survival, the other buried in her beautiful locks.

When my climax has been reached, we let go in one breath. We fall to the bed, exhausted. We're panting. She's in my arms. I feel her shaking as well.

It was always her. It was always Mikayla. True love waited, and was delivered.

**How was it? Was it horrible? Gahhhh my first M-rated fic -_- R&R please!**


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